


Ink

by TheLostLibran



Series: Flufftober 2020 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-War, Touchy-Feely, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26773900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostLibran/pseuds/TheLostLibran
Summary: Some words are written in ink. Some are written in stone. And some are written on hearts. Sometimes, it's a picture that makes a difference. Because it is worth a thousand words.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Series: Flufftober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945984
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Ink

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 2 prompt- Ink.

Draco's eighth year seemed to have a strange routine attached to it. His mornings began with Finnigan banging on his door and yelling, 'Wakey, wakey, ice prince,' which served its purpose mainly because it was infuriating. Weasley would be walking to the showers by the time he got out, towel around his neck. Dean Thomas then threatened to scrub the boys' backs if they "hogged the stalls." Longbottom and Blaise met them at the entrance to the common room where the girls also waited impatiently.

After breakfast the mob exited the great hall together but broke off into pairs or trios. Weasley and Finnigan, Blaise, Thomas and Longbottom, Pansy, Ginevra and Millie, Daphne and Lovegood, Granger, him and Potter. The afternoon groups were different depending on the classes they had but Potter was always with him.

Evenings in the common room included homework interspersed with quidditch discussions, exploding snaps or occasionally, hair styling competitions between Millie and Lovegood. Drunk nights saw Pansy forcing a game of Truth and Dare on them all and everyone falling asleep in front of the fire. If sometimes his head fell on Potter's shoulder, who always sat next to him, or on his lap, Draco pretended to be ignorant of it.

He therefore had little to no time to think about the skull on his arm. During the three instances that Draco did, Potter caught his hand and stopped him from scratching it raw. 'Your marks don't define you, Draco,' he had whispered, eyes serious and worried. Draco was reminded of those words each time he had looked at his mark from then on.

It was a quiet evening some ten days before Halloween. Most of the eighth years had gone to the Black Lake or Hogsmeade or were just wandering the castle, taking the evening off to themselves.

'Thomas?' Draco called, unable to sit still any longer. He had been observing that mark on Thomas' right arm for about a week now and he had to find out about it.

'Yes, Draco?' Thomas asked from where he was reading something over Finnigan's shoulder.

'What's that on your arm?'

Thomas froze like he had been Petrified, one hand slapping over his mark.

Finnigan looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow. 'Are you hiding something from me?'

'What? No, no. I-' Thomas stuttered.

Finnigan turned fully in his seat, eyes narrowing at Thomas' hand before quietly wrenching his fingers away one by one.

Draco craned his neck too, excited and eager. It was a simple tattoo of a fox sleeping curled up, it's tail tucked in with its hind legs. Decorating its head, almost as if it was a crown, was a small flame.

Finnigan stared at it for quite a long time before scrambling into Thomas' lap and pulling him in for a hug. 'Dean,' he choked out.

Thomas awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and Draco looked away from the intimate moment, straight into the green eyes of Harry Potter, who had apparently sneaked up to sit behind him on the couch and watched the whole scene.

'Finally, huh?' he laughed, prompting Thomas to blush and burrow his head into Finnigan's shoulder.

He wrapped a hand around Draco's neck and pulled him back, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder and exhaling loudly, 'Ah, young love!'

Draco wriggled free and slanted his eyes at him. 'You are not old, Potter.'

Potter winked at him, and then his expression became somber. 'You know, Halloween's coming up.'

'Yes?' Draco said hesitantly.

'I have permission to go to Godric's Hollow that night,' Potter continued, looking at him meaningfully.

Draco got it after a moment. 'You want me to come with you?'

'If you don't have plans,' Potter mumbled, glancing down at his hands.

That was how Draco found himself walking down the path to the castle gates with Potter, just as Hogwarts got ready for the evening feast.

Godric's Hollow was abounding with activity when they arrived, both of them stumbling and nauseous from their apparition. Potter led them to the statue of his smiling parents first. His expression softened and he lifted a hand to their faces before dropping it to his side as if it was dead weight.

Draco hesitated before slowly taking Potter's hand in his and squeezing it. Potter immediately laced their fingers together and wiped away the tears with his other hand. Draco pulled him forwards and they walked towards the cemetery, passing the Potter's home towards which Potter had looked at with such yearning that Draco wanted to wrap him up in his arms until the grief disappeared from his shoulders.

They spent nearly forty minutes in silence beside the graves of James and Lily Potter. Their hands were still entwined even as Potter cast an Orchideous, placing the bouquet on the tombstone. Draco didn't notice when the tears had started to fall but once he heard the sniffle, he stopped resisting. Potter buried his face in Draco's neck as they embraced and wept like a child as Draco rested his chin on top of his head.

'Last year, I was too numb to feel anything,' he said, voice garbled. 'Ron had gone off, Hermione was angry and I-' his voice cracked, 'I was so lost. I couldn't ask either of them to relive those moments again. I couldn't come alone either. I'm sorry.'

Draco knew he was supposed to say something consoling but the nagging feeling that they would be insufficient kept any words from coming out. He found Potter absently thumbing the scar on his hand. He stared at it once, twice and decided.

'Potter,' he said, pulling away and standing up. 'You know muggle London, don't you?'

Potter stood, dusting his trousers, a question in his eyes. 'Yes.'

'Can you take me to a tattoo parlour, then?'

'Why?'

Draco didn't reply. He silently held out his hand and wriggled his fingers when Potter didn't take it. He rolled his eyes at last.

'To raid it. Why would anyone go to a tattoo place, Potter?'

Five minutes later, Draco felt accomplished at having shoven Potter into the chair with a threat of a body bind if he moved.

'What of your father do you cherish the most, Potter, other than the mop on your head?' He asked.

Potter stared at him. Draco leaned forward and traced Potter's scar with his forefinger. 'You can have good marks on yourself too, you know,' he said.

Potter stared at him some more before smiling tiredly. 'Get out, Draco.'

'Where have you been?' Weasley demanded as soon as they entered the common room.

Potter looked up and only then seemed to realise how much time had gone by. 'Sorry,' he said, rubbing his neck, looking sheepish.

'Potter's tattooed now,' Draco revealed, responding to Potter's glare with a smirk. 

'Don't tell the others,' Potter had asked.

As if.

Honestly, Draco didn't intend to. But then Potter refused to show _him_ and he had to play dirty of course.

Potter didn't stand a chance against the grabby hands of his friends. When his shirt was unbuttoned and his still red chest and shoulders exposed, Draco could only stare.

'Harry!' Granger exclaimed, awed and momentarily speechless. She traced the otter on his left shoulder even as Weasley hugged him, kissing his forehead, eyes teary at the sight of the terrier on Potter's right shoulder.

'Are they Sirius and Prof. Lupin, Harry?' Lovegood asked, pointing at the dog and wolf on either side of his waist.

Ginevra gaped in awe at the picture on his heart. 'It's beautiful, Harry,' she said.

'A stag and a baby deer, how cute.' Pansy's voice didn't have the usual steel.

'Surrounded by a wreath of lilies,' Millie added.

'And not just any lilies,' Longbottom explained. 'They are dragon lilies, often mistaken for the garden variety for how similar they are. They also..'

Longbottom went on but Draco didn't hear it. He recognised those flowers. His mother loved to garden after all. Hearing it confirmed from their resident Herbologist made him snap his eyes to Potter's wonderfully blushing face.

When Draco couldn't sleep that night, he took out some parchment and dipped his quill in the ink. Potter was sleeping peacefully when he left the note on the table next to his bed. Draco couldn't help but smooth Potter's hair and graze his knuckles on his cheek. He returned to his room feeling inexplicably light and elated. His sleep was uninterrupted.

_I'm sorry. For everything_

**Author's Note:**

> More fluff and feels as already promised.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated.


End file.
